


Hi, I'm Andrew!  You Don't Know Me, But . . .

by DixieDale



Series: The Life and Times of One Peter Newkirk [56]
Category: Clan O'Donnell - Fandom, Hogan's Heroes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-24 22:30:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14963411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale
Summary: When an anxious and slightly tipsy Andrew Carter bares his soul to a visitor in a long rambling monologue, we learn more than we ever imagined about him and maybe a few other people as well.  It's probably a good thing his visitor isn't the gossiping type.





	Hi, I'm Andrew!  You Don't Know Me, But . . .

"Here, come have a seat by the fire, get comfortable. Chilly out there tonight, isn't it? Oh, that's right, you don't know me, but that's okay. Just call me Andrew. I'm just a simple guy, not too interesting, but maybe you'll know me a little better after we chat for awhile. No, I don't know why, I'm just in the mood, I guess, a little lonesome maybe. Here, have a drink. It's not often we get guests, I mean other than family; of course, you're a friend of the family, or you wouldn't be here, inside. How DID you get inside, anyway? We're careful about that, you know. What we have here is important; she calls it the Ashtore, the Treasure, and we protect that; it means too much to all of us not to. Oh, you ARE? Really?? YOU ARE??! Oh, wow! That's neat! I've always wondered . . . And you've already looked around some? You're just waiting while she . . . Oh, well, that makes sense; of course she'd want to do that."

"Yeah, I'm drinking a bit too much, I know. Just the one big drink, really, but I kinda forgot to eat today, and last night too, so . . . It's just, they were due back hours ago, really early this morning in fact; the train only goes through about 3 in the morning this time of year, and I was waiting with the cart, and it didn't even stop, and they haven't called or anything, and I get a little nervous when they're late. A little worried. Yeah, they just went down to Cardith for a couple of days, but things happen, you know, and when they're away, I start remembering some of those things, and when they're late . . . Well, I know you know how THAT is, things going all pear-shaped just outta the blue. What? Yeah, that's kinda funny, isn't it, hearing that way out here, but that's something the Clan latched onto, and you'll hear it from a whole lotta people any more. I think Caeide brought it back from when she spent that year in London with Peter and Maudie and Marisol. Oh, she's told you about all that? Boy, there sure were some funny stories about that year, and a couple a little scary, too. 

But I AM really glad you stopped in; I'm just waiting around til I can go back down to the station to see if they come in on the next train. I'd be tempted to go now, but there's not much use sitting there in the cold for hours when the train isn't due to come through, and anyway, the kids are upstairs asleep, and I wouldn't leave them alone for more than a quick trip, of course, and, well, what if they call while I'm sitting down there, you know? I know; I'm not making much sense, but, I'm really getting worried. Well, I am. 

Well, anyway, like I was saying, I'm just a simple guy; ask anyone, they'll tell you. I'm skinny and knobby, a little bit ferret-faced - narrow, you know, right through here? I'm really clumsy and can fall over lint, not to mention tree roots, clumps of dirt, metal buckets, a crack in the floor, well, you get the idea. Can you imagine what I can manage on those stairs over there??! I talk a lot, too much most would tell you; sometimes I'm actually saying something, sometimes just making noise to distract me or someone else. I get these wild ideas, 'hair-brained', I'm told, and I can get really enthusiastic, and sometimes get carried away. I'm not too worldly; well, some say I'm naive. I hear the words 'innocent', 'dumb', 'you gotta be kidding me, Andrew!' a whole lot. There's some think I'm not too bright, either. And, I guess all of these things, they describe me. 

Except when they don't, and that's more often than you might think. And I have to admit, it's kinda funny, I mean ha-ha funny, when I'm the only one knowing sometimes which is which. Especially when I get Peter going, and he gets those hilarious expressions on his face, sometimes exasperated, sometimes totally confused, sometimes a whole bunch of other things; I just love that! 

Caeide tells me I am the working definition of an anomaly, at least SOME of the definitions. SHE says she is meaning the 'not what they appear to be', and 'not easily classified', not all those other things that sound kinda, well, not so good. And she'd know. See, somehow she understands me better than most anyone ever has, maybe even better than my parents did. Well, my dad just didn't, though he tried; he LOVED me, sure, just sometimes would look at me like an eagle looking at a pelican chick that showed up in his nest somehow. My mom loved me too, and understood me better, but of course moms see you as their kid, and they can miss a lot of the things that someone else can see. I read about that, when a serial killer or someone is caught and their mom says, "but he's such a GOOD boy!" Not that I'm a serial killer or someone like that, of course. Just saying. 

When I was in sixth grade, we studied Shakespeare, and I started out trying that 'to thine own self be true', at least doing what I thought that meant. You know, living a good life and being who you are, and being honest with yourself and everyone else. We had a substitute teacher most of that year; the gym coach took over the English Literature class after Miss Deluca left to get married, and I'm not sure he really was very good at it, cause Caeide tells me the real meaning of that speech doesn't fit me at all, though it DOES fit the Big Brown Eagle, uh, sorry 'General Robert Hogan'. See, she says when Polonius is giving that advice to his son in Hamlet, a lot of scholars think he's being a bit of a smug, pompous, well, something not too nice. That he is telling his son, 'look, you do what is best for YOU, do what brings YOU benefit, especially where money (and other stuff) are involved; you do that, well, it'll be good for everyone else, because, hey, why not??! You ARE the center of the universe, aren't you??!' Yeah, that's sure not what I had in mind when I wrote that on the top of my notebook that year in sixth grade. I was trying to remind myself that it was OKAY if I talked too much, and was interested in odd things, and was clumsy, and liked animals maybe better than I did a lot of the people I knew, and all that. That I should just be ME, cause, really, who else was I SUPPOSED to be, huh?? 

Of course, other than my parents and my grandparents and a couple of aunts and cousins, well, no one else thought it was okay that I just be me; they all thought I should change. So I figured out how, sorta, and I must admit it's come in handy, especially when I was in the Army. Not that you really change, you know, but I learned to pretend really good. So, there ended up being a couple, maybe three or more Andrew Carters. (Maybe that's why I could see what was happening with the Colonel, you know? Huh. I never thought of that before.). For me, though, as long as I kept them straight, the Andrew Carters, I mean, that worked pretty good. Keeping them straight, though, sometimes that's kinda hard. Boy, does it confuse people when you shift in the middle of a conversation, ya know? 

I don't know if you've been in the Army, I mean other that Mission I know they sent you on, but they aren't so keen on the 'be yourself' stuff. They have their way and that's what they want you to follow. Okay, so I did that, as much as I could, anyhow. That's how I got to be a Lieutenant, which is pretty good for a guy like me. Of course, then I became a Tech Sergeant, which is a real step backwards, but there was a really good reason for that! I even did it on purpose, just so I could stay at Stalag 13 and help the guys fight the war; they needed someone who knew about explosives and chemistry and all that, and that's my speciality. Did I ever tell you about blowing up my high school? No, don't ask if that was an accident. Even today, I'm not quite sure. I was really sore at the chem teacher at the time, but I don't think I blew up the place on purpose. But, I'm not totally sure. 

Now don't get me wrong! Ending up in a German prisoner of war camp is not what I'd call lucky! But, well, even with all the hard times and danger, I got to be part of something really important, do more than I'd have been able to do otherwise. I met some of the guys who'd end up being my brothers for all time. I met the man who'd become that and end up being so much more. I met Caeide. And I met the man who was easily the greatest disappointment of my life. 

Did ya ever meet someone who seemed like the biggest and greatest and best you've ever seen, someone you really admire, then to find out . . . Do you know what a narcissist is? I didn't, and I still don't understand, not really. That man, Colonel Hogan, he was a hero to all of us. The camp had been in a really bad way when he got there, and he turned things around; got the guys into a team, the one they let me be a part of later. Boy, the stories they told about before he came, and right afterwards, it'd stand your hair straight up on your head! He planned great stuff, could charm the socks off a cat, and boy! did the ladies love him! The guys idolized him, and so did I. 

Until he started changing, like he was someone else sometimes. I don't know why, and I guess I never will. But it started being all about him. If something went right, it was because of HIM. If a mission went wrong, it was because we didn't pay attention to HIM and his orders. If we told him we couldn't do something, like Louie with a really tiny space, or Peter when his hands got so bad at the end so he couldn't do all that 'magic fingers' stuff anymore - well, it was like it was an insult to HIM. And he always found a way to make you pay for that kind of insult. Sometimes in what he probably thought were just little ways, little reminders; like maybe things would disappear from our footlockers. That little Angie horse Caeide had sent me, the origami flower Newkirk kept tucked away, that sort of thing.

Well, they may have been little things to him, just a slap on the wrist, but those things MEANT something to us, something important! We didn't have a heck of a lot to hold on to in there, you know? I always worried the letters would disappear, the ones Coura sent me, the ones Caeide sent Peter; maybe he thought that would be going too far and get the rest of the guys really mad, since they liked hearing us re-read those letters over and over. Still, they did disappear, during one of the inspections during those last couple of months. Maybe he didn't put Klink up to it. Maybe. I don't know. But he was really pissed when the Warrior kept us from pulling off some of those jobs, and after Louie just refused a job that would have meant him spending hours in a little box safe, and after I wouldn't work with those chemicals that felt like they were melting my brain, we paid for what he called our 'not stepping up to the plate'. Well, we still did our part, as best we could, but us setting limits based on what WE knew we could or couldn't do, he didn't take that well at all. And he did have to have his payback when he got pissed. 

But, maybe he didn't have anything to do with those letters; I mean other things, other letters disappeared too, so maybe it was just that those were the ones that I was most involved in. I know, the other guys cared just as much about their letters and things, just . . . I wanted to cry and hit someone, and Peter, well, I thought that was going to break something inside him, those letters were like an anchor for him; I mean, sometimes I'd wake up and he'd be sitting at that long table, in the dark, just running his fingers over that stack of letters, over and over again. Well, it didn't break him, but I think maybe it caused something inside him to become frozen, lost. For awhile I was afraid that was permanent; luckily it wasn't, but it could have been, easily enough. I've never forgiven that. 

Well, there's a lot I'll never forgive. The Scriptures say that's bad; Caeide says the Clan think a lot different about it, and she doesn't blame me, in fact she honors me for that. Well, considering that marker she made, the one with the Colonel's name on it, that's not so much of a surprise. Did I mention I really liked Caeide, even before? 

Well, to get back to the 'being yourself'. When I got into the prison camp the first time (yeah, I know. Just be patient, alright? Hey, I'm sorry, that was rude, wasn't it? Here, would you like another drink? No? Okay, then.), I went in as a Lieutenant, and that's what I was. I was in a few days, then passed back out though their escape route again, headed for England. Just, part way there, I kinda changed my mind; I figured they needed me, and just in those few days, I maybe decided I needed them too. Other than my family, no one much has ever really needed me, and I've tried not to need anyone else either since I didn't have much chance of there being anyone there even if I did need them. Sorry, I think I kinda lost my train of thought there. Just, those few days . . . 

So I managed to get back in, this time as a Tech Sergeant, cause it was an enlisted camp, with the Senior Prisoner of War and the Chaplain being the only officers allowed; I did it under a slightly different name; they saw so many guys passing through there, it wasn't all that hard. I became a member of the Command Team; me, Sergeant James Kinchloe, US Army - Kinch, Corporal Louie LeBeau, Free French, and Corporal Peter Newkirk, RAF. We couldn't have been more different, but it worked. We were friends, brothers, and that hasn't changed. 

I learned what my job was to be: their explosives and chemistry expert, along with general missions guy, and occasional distraction. I took on a few other jobs they DIDN'T give me, and they probably never knew I looked on them as jobs. But there were things that were NEEDED, and there was a gap, and I figured I could use a lot of the stuff from when I was growing up, you know the 'Andrew Carter, the geeky kid' to fill that gap. Yeah, I did a good job with building bombs and stuff, and I really did enjoy that, a lot. I mean, BOOM, CRASH, KA-POW! What's not to enjoy, right? And I did a really great impersonation of a Nazi officer, you know, the creepy, slightly nuts kind? Yeah, I know, that covers a lot of territory. I have to admit, that kinda scared me a little, to think I could even PRETEND to be one of them. But I kinda became the kid brother to a lot of them, and that was something they needed too, to be around someone a little more 'innocent', when their own innocence was being stripped from them more and more each day, if it hadn't already been. Someone to tease a little, maybe look out for, take their minds off things for awhile. So that's what I did, what I became, sorta like what I'd been to one of my older cousins. 

Especially to Peter. Yeah, he and Louie were best of friends, had been together in the camp the longest, and they looked out for each other, but they were buddies, and that was different. Peter needed someone to take care of, SPECIAL, like he'd taken care of his sister Mavis all those years. He NEEDED that, though he'd have never admitted it, no, not big, tough, 'Mr. I Only Look Out For Myself Newkirk'! Boy, what a sham! Funny, a lotta the guys in the camp, they fell for that routine. Louie and I never understood how they could have, but they did. They fell for that smart mouthed, 'I'm a natural born coward', complaining, bragging act. I think maybe it was the way he protected himself. 

See, although you might think it strange, as much as Peter needed to care about someone and look out for someone, he was afraid of caring, and afraid of having anyone care too much about him. Maybe part of it was being in the camp so long, right from when it was first opened, having so many people die around him, but I think maybe it was something a lot older with him, it just getting more pronounced there at Stalag 13. And, I have to admit, it felt really good, having someone care that much. Not that he showed it usually, except in funny ways, like teasing me, complaining about my talking too much, griping about how clumsy I was, groaning over how naive and totally clueless I was. Yeah, I know, that might not sound like 'caring' but that's what it was; I never had any doubts about that. It was like his doing his magic tricks and telling jokes and stories, and reading Caeide's letters out loud, to help alleviate some of the boredom for the guys; that was part of how he 'cared' for them, though he would have probably hit you if you'd tried to say that. And I'm not even going into the times he put himself between me and trouble, getting hurt because of it, almost dying once because of it. Yeah, and for Louie and Olsen and the others too, but it seems like it was me more often than the others. That's the part that's EASY to see; the other stuff, it was there, just less obvious. 

It was really cool when Coura, oh, that's Caeide's younger sister, started writing me, and I had something fun to share with him and the rest of the guys too. See, I knew Coura had started writing just cause Caeide, had asked her too, to brighten things up, maybe pass information to Peter that she couldn't do directly. See, there was this complication . . . 

Peter had known Caeide a long time ago, and they'd stayed friends all along. It wasn't too hard to see that if she hadn't been so young back then, they'd have probably become more than friends, but she WAS awful young, at least the way most would see it. Well, when the letters started coming after having been lost for so long, Hogan was really kinda put out; he didn't like that one bit. And when she showed up at camp on a mission? Wow! Was he ever pissed! Then, and then the second time, and when other members of her family passed through. Her people were all really involved in fighting the war, mostly as special forces and the like, and it wasn't all that surprising they'd show up at the camp, being as how we were the primary Travelers Aid Society in southern Germany. But for the Colonel, it was like they were trying to challenge him somehow, and he didn't take it well, even the two times they came just to HELP us cause we needed help, when we'd ASKED them for help (not him, of course, but Peter once and me the other time!). He never did take that well, someone putting themselves up against what he saw as his authority. And that link to Peter? Oh my gosh! 

See, the Colonel and Peter, well, they were close, if you know what I mean; I could tell that early on, though I didn't really understand HOW close, and even almost walked in on them a few times before Louie took me aside and explained things. Boy, was I embarrassed! After that I tried real hard to not see anything I shouldn't, not say anything I shouldn't. That got kinda hard, and I had to give myself a real talking to sometimes. I was really confused after I met Caeide, but again, Louie explained, just between the two of us of course, that some people, well, some guys liked girls, some liked other guys, and some liked both. And he said Peter liked both. I was a little worried cause I really liked Caeide when I met her, and from her letters - no, not the same kind of 'like', so don't go thinking I fell in love with her or anything. Well, at least not then. But Louie said she knew, had always known, and it didn't matter to her, she was okay with it, and that was kinda what she told us in camp, when we were all talking about things. But the Colonel?? Boy, he DID NOT like any idea of Caeide and Peter liking each other - I'm back to the other kind of 'like' now, well, maybe even both kinds of 'like', and he was really kinda nasty to her. Still, she was only there twice, and the others in her family just three or four times, so he mostly left it be except for snarling when her letters came, hers and Coura's. 

But then, he started to change even more, with us, with Klink - that was the Camp Kommandant, even with Peter. It had always had to be HIS way; that didn't change, and that was okay; he was the leader, it was his responsibility to make the final decisions. But he used to at least listen if one of us maybe had some doubts, thought of a different way to do something, made an in-field decision when he wasn't around to make it. Not anymore; there was no questioning him, not if you wanted things to stay comfortable. He and Klink got a lot closer, and while that helped with some of our missions, it kinda made us a little uneasy too. Klink was still a German, still in charge of the camp, still looking out for himself, still scared out of his mind of the Gestapo. Well, who wasn't? I mean, did you ever MEET any of those goons??? Oh, yeah, sorry! I guess you'd know better than most anyone! I know Kinch was worried the Colonel would let Klink know too much about what we were doing. But what the Colonel figured, if one of us screwed up and let the krauts know too much, like Peter did with Gretel, that was a big deal. And don't get me wrong, that WAS, it was really, really DUMB, and it was right Peter had to pay a price for that. It was a hard decision, and he made the wrong one, no doubt about it. Though it's always easier to see that looking back than it would have been for him then, right at the first, you know; he's got a good heart, though he tries to hide that along with a lot else. 

But when the Colonel did pretty much the same thing? Well, 'it was necessary for the mission. It was a command decision. And I'm the one in command!' which I really kinda had my doubts about, I mean, about it being necessary; I could think of at least three different ways to handle it, and he's supposedly the really smart one! And when he was willing to risk us all to save Tiger, but wasn't willing to for Marya, things like that. And that 'I'm the one in command' stuff, it just got bigger and bigger, to where he was trying to override what we did on our missions. I mean, if we got in position and found something was off, it just wouldn't work, and we bailed? He was really pissed! With Louie's claustrophobia, Peter's hands starting to give out on him, me starting to get the headaches and breathing problems from all the fumes from the chemicals I worked with - he'd just look at us like we were slacking on the job, and sometimes give us that lecture, the one about having to do a better job, step up to the plate, remember what we were there for, all that kind of stuff. It got pretty hard to take. I mean, anyone could have looked at Peter's hands, the knots and ridges and the way they'd cramp and get all curled over to know he wasn't faking. And Kinch? He was supposed to 'stop' the problems that kept coming up with the soldiers passing through, or even some of the other prisoners. Well, when the problem was them resenting taking orders from him, or his even being there, just because he was black - just how was he supposed to 'stop' that? Decide to wake up the next morning and be WHITE?? 

Still, Hogan was our leader, and most of the time he still led us to pull off some really tough assignments. We all tried to keep that in mind, and I tried to keep my mind off him and Peter; but that was getting more and more of a problem. See, the same way he was getting with us as a team? He was getting that way more and more with Peter as his, well, his lover, though, you know, that word, it just didn't seem to fit, not anymore. I don't know what the right word would be, even. Peter never said anything, but I came to know things, and it really bothered me, especially when I saw how Hogan used Peter's caring for the rest of us to pressure him into things he really didn't want to do. I'd see them, Hogan giving Peter that signal, Peter either ignoring him or shaking his head; then, I'd see Hogan look around the room, at Olsen, at Louie, then at me, and he'd smile, and that smile was really scary. And Peter would go with him, sometimes into the tunnels, sometimes even to Klink's quarters, and we all knew why, I think. It wasn't right, but we were all stuck, Peter more than any of us, and I saw the other guys just keeping out of it, and I figured that's what I should do to. If Hogan ever really turned on us, on purpose, well, anything could happen, and we all knew that, even if we didn't talk about it, but it was pretty scary. 

Til I got thinking about my Mom one day, and remembering how smart she was, always able to see the right of something, wishing I could just sit down and talk to her about stuff. Til I got to thinking about back home, when I was a kid. See, Mr. Sims up and married Lucy Jenkins, and everyone said how it was such a good catch for her, him being a bigshot and living in a big house and owning the mill and all. But, well, I remember asking my dad once why she always wore long sleeves and long dresses, even in the hottest weather. Even in our little town, which was pretty conservative, the ladies would wear half sleeves or cap sleeves in summer, and their skirts weren't nearly as long as Mrs. Jenkins were. My dad just got that tight look to his mouth, and told me to not talk about that, it wasn't any of our business. And it seemed to me she had to be just as clumsy as I was; she a lotta times had bruises on her face, and had a broken arm more than once. My mom would tell my dad it was a disgrace and someone should do something, and he would frown and remind her you didn't interfere in other people's business. The preacher seemed to agree with my dad; he'd give these sermons about the wife submitting to the husband, and the husband being the head, and about how a wife was supposed to be silent, and Mr. Jenkins would sit there so proud and his head so high, nodding at every thing the preacher said. I remember one time my mom came home and wrote down a whole bunch of OTHER verses, ones that talked about loving and cherishing and said she would like to hand THAT to the preacher, and my dad tore the list up, said to keep out of it, wasn't up to them to be preaching to the preacher. 

One of the few arguments I remember my mom and dad having was after Mrs. Jenkins ran away with Mr. Ortmeyer, the mill assistant. The preacher gave a long sermon really scorning and shaming them both, and my mom just sat there in our pew, but her hands were getting whiter and whiter from griping that hymnal, and her lips getting tighter than I've ever seen them. My dad hurried us out afterwards, not even saying goodbye to the preacher, and when they got home, they argued, him saying Mr. Ortmeyer had no right to step in that way, and Mrs. Jenkins was a bad woman for letting it happen, she'd made her bed when she got married and she had to lie in it, and Mom shouldn't be making any sign she thought differently; that it'd get people's backs up. My Mom, though, she said she was proud of them both; that it was MR Jenkins who was bad and a disgrace, and she was just glad Mr. Ortmeyer had gotten Lucy away before something really awful happened! That hurting someone that bad, all the while saying they loved them and cared for them, well, that was just WRONG, no matter what the preacher said! And trying to make poor Lucy think it was her fault, just what she deserved because of her 'failings', well, that just made my Mom madder than ever. 

And thinking back on all that, somehow, that changed how I saw what was happening in camp, and I decided I had to do something. I mean, I couldn't get Peter away, of course, and we still had a job to do, and Hogan was still the leader, but there had to be something, especially since I had the feeling Peter was starting to think this was just the way things were, accepting that, maybe even thinking like Mrs. Jenkins that it was what he deserved, somehow, that it was his own fault he was being hurt and made to do things he didn't want to do, all cause he couldn't do so much of the 'magic finger' stuff and this was what he had to do instead to make up for it. And he was, being hurt, I mean; I saw the bruises, and they didn't come from any of our monkey business either. And that doesn't even count what I saw in his eyes; they looked all bruised too. Not on the outside, but on the inside, you know? 

So, I did what I'd never intended to do. I let Peter know how I felt about him, more than the like-a-brother kind of feelings. I kinda, well, I seduced him, though I had to ask the guys how to do it. Of course, I made out that it was a girl in town I was trying to get close to, and they all helped me. Kinch suggested flowers, Louie a nice candlelight dinner with wine. The Colonel? Pretty much what you would expect: flattery, telling her pretty lies, promising whatever it took, taking charge, that kinda stuff. The really funny thing? It was Peter who helped the most, gave me all kinds of good advice, all about being honest, not making promises you couldn't keep, being kind and gentle, showing her I really cared and wasn't using her, even up to making sure I wanted her because of who she was, not just because she was available, and vice versa, things like that. See, really good advice! He even kissed me, showing me how it was done, when I told him I didn't know how! Yeah, I know! Hard to believe, huh? Sheesh! I mean, really? I was a Lieutenant in the Army; okay, he thought I was just a Tech Sergeant, but still - really??! It was awful hard keeping a straight face while I was convincing him of that! Boy, that was one of the best bits of acting I've ever done! And that look of totally bewildered, exasperated, 'what the bloody 'ell am I doing???!' on his face! I'll never forget that look! If I hadn't been in love with him before, I think those few minutes would have done it! But I have to admit, it was the best kiss I'd ever had, which was good, since I 'returned' it to him as the last step of the seduction. 

Yes, it worked. No, it didn't change the Colonel and what he was doing. And it didn't let us be together, not in that way, because, hello - prisoner of war camp? Other prisoners around, Germans everywhere? Hogan in charge? All that stuff?? But it did make Peter remember he had value, he deserved to be treated well and kindly by anyone claiming they cared about him, loved him. And that if he WASN'T being treated like that, well, it wasn't his fault; that the other person just didn't really care about him the right way. And that there were still at least two people, Caeide and me, that DID care about him like that, enough to respect him, treat him right. I like to think that helped him get through the last few months, before we left the camp. He says it did, anyway. That, and the dreams of Caeide that he and I shared, even though no one would ever believe us, not that either of us would ever share that with anyone anyway, and I'm not going to talk to you about them either. They're private, you know? Though come to think of it, you'd probably understand better than most. Yeah, I thought so. 

I heard that song the other day, 'You Don't Know Me,' and you may not have heard it, but it's all about this guy watching someone he really loves walk away with someone else, still thinking all HE was just a friend, and never knowing the truth, and it was so sad, and it made me shiver; that coulda been me, you know. Watching Peter walk away with Hogan, if Hogan had stayed the way he was early on? Never letting Peter know I loved him? Yeah, I would have done that; it would have hurt, but that's what I'd always intended to do, whether it was with Hogan or with Caeide. But watching Peter walk away, maybe be forced, or talked into it, to walk away with Hogan after he changed so much, knowing how bad that would be for Peter, how much he could get hurt, knowing I might have been able to do something to stop that? That would have torn my heart out; I would never have gotten over that, would never have forgiven myself. Well, I never had to experience that either, thankfully. And, turns out, that song didn't apply to me in any way! 

I got home, and that's a whole different story! Boy!, don't get me started on that, on my cousins and THEIR monkey business and all! And then, after a few months, I heard from Peter; he'd gone to Haven right off the ship after we got out, and had been there ever since, with Caeide and Maude and Marisol, him trying to get over being so sick and all. And he asked me to come and visit, and I did, and it was kinda complicated, what with Hogan trying to mix in, but we got it all settled out. Now, Peter and Caeide and me, we're a family. And Maudie of course, and Marisol and all the rest, but me and Peter and Caeide, that's different. If you don't believe it, look at the kids. All twins, that just seems to be what we do. Two of the boys look like Peter, three like me, the three girls all look like Caeide. And I know that doesn't seem to match up, seeing Scotty and Colin are twins and Scotty looks like Peter and Colin like me, but that's just the way it is; we don't try to understand it. We just love them all, more than I can say. We are a family, they are OUR kids, all of them; WE are their parents, all three of us, and everyone around Haven just accepts that now. Any that think different end up crosswise to Caeide and that's just not a good thing, so mostly they just accept. 

Yeah, you're right; they ARE a lot alike! Though she's not had to resort to mushrooms yet; well, not that she's ever said anyway. Caeide told me THAT story, and WOW! You have yourself quite a woman, you know! Yeah, well, I guess you know that. Hey, did you know we named one of the boys after you? You did? I'm glad, we thought you might like that, and Caeide said it was right and proper and yours was a good name to carry on, and we've told them all your story and all. Yeah, well don't worry about that; not too many of the Clan or the ones the Clan women Bond to are all that 'pure as driven snow', either. Her sister, Meghada, well, sometime you need to visit and meet HER guys. Yeah, guys - two of her own, several she kinda adopted. Not a snowball in the lot. 

Hogan? Yeah, he still tries to cause trouble every now and then. Seems he still thinks Peter is his. Well, he isn't, and all of us are very glad of that. Peter is stronger, healthier than I've ever seen him; he's happy too, and a smile is never far from his eyes, his lips. Caeide and I agree, that smile, well, it's worth anything we have to do to keep it there. And we don't really set any limits on that either. 

Some day, if he keeps trying to make trouble, I think we'll have to arrange for Hogan to visit that plot with the marker Caeide set up so long ago, the one on the far hillside. A one-way visit, you know. I imagine you've heard about that place? Yeah, I figured. We may or may not tell Peter; he's still got some qualms since he remembers the old Hogan as well as the Hogan that man gradually became. So do I, but well, the old Hogan? I doubt there'd have ever been a grave plot laid out in the first place, Caeide never tried to decide Peter's life for him, only offering what she had to offer and accepting his decisions on how he wanted to live his life. But, someone hurting Peter? Someone trying to make Peter think it was RIGHT to let himself be hurt? That was never okay with her, never would or will be; and the same for me. So, yeah, if it's necessary, I'll pick up a shovel; heck, I'll pick up something else to get him ready, if necessary. Hopefully it won't come to that. Hopefully. 

Wonder what time it is; I don't want to miss that train coming in. Surely they'll be on this one, don't you think? Oh, hi there! Did you have a good look around? Yeah, isn't it??! Here, I poured you a drink; hope you like bourbon; it's Caeide's favorite. Yours too? Good. Messages? Sure, I'd be glad to! Uhuh, alright, I'll tell her. Yeah, that too! Really?? Wow! I'm sorry you didn't get to see her, but . . . Ah, that's nice! I'm glad I got to meet the both of you too! Maybe you can drop in again some time?" 

"Andrew? Andrew, luv, we're home, finally! That bloody train! Davie drove us up, it being such an odd time."

"Maybe he's at the stock barn, you know it takes him longer . . . Andrew! What happened??!" the woman exclaimed at the sight of the figure slumped to the floor in front of the cold ashes of the fireplace. There was a bottle of whiskey on the side table, three glasses, all empty, but showing signs they'd been full at one time. There wasn't much gone from the bottle, probably only enough for those three drinks.

"Caeide? What's wrong with him?" the tall Englishman demanded anxiously.

"He's running a fever, I don't see any injuries; let's get him up to bed, see if we can bring him around," the red haired woman said, and together they did just that, Maude dashing to check on the children. They put him in the invalid room, just in case, rather than having to move him again if it turned out to be more than just a bad turn. They sat with him til he roused, then managed to get him to take aspirin and some hot sweet tea "{dear old Maudie's remedy for everything, though it does seem to do the trick, often as not,"} Peter thought with a chuckle. They watched over him carefully, and several hours later, as he started to rouse again from the light sleep he'd fallen into after the tea, "Knew we shouldn't have left him alone," the old woman grumbled. 

"Maudie, you needed to get your glasses changed, I HAD to meet with Lewis in Cardith and make that delivery in order to meet our deadline, and Peter needed to meet that shipment from the southern enclave - I daren't do that, you know that ship's captain is scared stiff of me, for some reason; he can't even talk sense when I'm around," and that brought a snort from both of them, them well aware of WHY the man turned green at the sight of the redhead.

{"Well, with their 'istory, I'd turn bleedin green too! One of these days she might just forget she's supposed to be civilized, and then, oh bloody 'ell!"} Peter thought to himself with more than a little amusement. 

"He's scared you'll rip his balls off and shove them up his arse," came as a tiny whisper and giggle from the thin brown-eyed man leaning against the pillows, "that's what you told him you would do if he tried to cheat you again!" He opened his eyes and smiled at them, giggled again, covering his mouth with one hand.

"Andrew! Andrew, what on earth 'appened, luv?" Peter asked, at the same time Caeide was putting her hand to the side of his face, checking his temperature. Peter felt some relief at the slight smile that came to her, and the reassuring nod in his direction.

"Well, we had company, and I think maybe I drank too much. Or maybe, I was drinking too much and THEN we had company," Andrew frowned up at them, a little confused.

"Company? Elis? The Reverend? Who, Andrew?" came from Caeide, with some apprehension. Strangers didn't come to Haven, weren't welcome at Haven, and a friend or a member of the family wouldn't have left Andrew laying crumpled on the floor beside a cold fireplace on a chill autumn night, especially with the children upstairs.

"I'm thirsty, can I have some water, Caeide?" was the only response, and she rushed to get him a glass.

"Maudie's making fresh tea, that'll be ready in just a minute or two, dear. Would you like a bit of soup? It's chicken, your favorite, the one she does with those bits of dumpling mixed in," she urged him, and was relieved at his smile and nod. She gave Peter a look, and went to arrange that; Peter moved to sit at the side of the bed, taking her place.

"Well, let's get you around some 'ot tea and soup, then you can tell us about your company, right enough?" and the weak smile was almost like his Andrew's again. Peter was having to struggle to keep any kind of a smile on his own face. {"No, I think we'll not leave 'im alone again," } knowing that was perhaps foolish, that Andrew was just as capable as any of them, had proven it time and time again, but looking out for Andrew, caring about him, well that was an old, old habit, and not one Peter would be likely to break, nor want to. {"My Andrew, OUR Andrew,"} he thought, looking at that slightly narrow face with an affection he didn't bother to hide, grateful that he no longer NEEDED to hide that affection. Yes, it had been many years since that had been necessary, but he still remembered how much it had hurt to have to do that. 

Caeide and Maude showed up with the tea and soup, and they watched him eat, sigh with pleasure, and lay the spoon back into the empty bowl. "That was really good, Maudie. No one makes chicken soup like you do, though I really like your bread, and that pear tart you do, and . . ."

Peter stopped the litany, "Yes, Andrew, we know you relish 'er cooking and all, but tell us about your visitor, if you'd be so kind. Was it someone we all know?" trying to get him started in the right direction. With Andrew, you had to do that; he could start nattering on about something, and sometimes NEVER got to the point! 

"It was Family, and they were really nice; I liked them both. I didn't let him in; he was just THERE when I turned around. He and I talked a lot and had a drink while she took a look at a few special places she remembered. Then, when she came back in, she had a drink too. She said she wanted to take a look at the kids, but said it was really too late and she didn't want to wake them up accidentally. She said maybe next time. They just wanted to come and pay a visit, Peter; they didn't stay long. I was really surprised; I thought if they were going to visit, they'd pick a time when Caeide was here, but they said it was better this way for now. But they left messages!"

He frowned in concentration as he checked them off, one by one. "SHE said she really liked what you did with Haven, Caeide, and it's all she could have ever dreamed of, and she is ever so proud of you, and really happy Peter finally saw the light! And she thinks the three of us are just right for each other, and she is so happy for us. Oh and she DID say you might want to take a look at planting part of that old flax field in comfrey and bramble fruit next year, with maybe a row of hazelnuts on the inward side; that it's lain fallow long enough. And HE said for you to tell Meghada and the Grandmother that the debt is paid in full, not that he was sure there ever was a debt, no matter what SHE said."

"It was really neat, the way she shook her head at him, and smiled, and he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her up real tight, and kissed her on the top of her head. They both asked that you tell Meghada they are proud of her, and really happy that her thinking there WAS a debt maybe helped in pointing her on the way to her finding her Ashtore, though they thought she'd have found it anyway, just maybe it taking a little longer. And they thanked all of us for naming one of the boys after HIM, and SHE said to tell you, Caeide, that 'yes, you are; and yes, she'd be pleased if you do what you've had in mind if that happened, naming one of the two girls after her; cause that's what it'll be this time, two girls.' And that when the next Day of Remembrance comes up, and you tell their story, since that's what the Grandmother intends, you can add this visit and the namings as part of it; they thought that would be real nice." 

He smiled at them happily, glad that he was able to remember all of that. Then he frowned, "Caeide, are you okay?" since the look on her face was decidedly odd. Her eyes flooded with tears that brimmed over and flowed down her cheeks.

"Yes, Andrew, I'm okay. And, thank you for welcoming her home, her and Liam both. You know, Maeve always did have a right good feel for what that old flax field might do in a few years; I think I'll see what the nursery catalogues have to offer for planting. Hazelnuts, you said, and comfrey and bramble fruit. Yes, we'll just do that." She was rambling, her hand resting on her abdomen, trembling just a bit. "And we'd best see about getting the cradles out of the attic again," as she turned and leaned into Peter's chest, him closing his arms tightly around her.

"Caeide? You don't really . . ." He tipped her face up to meet her eyes, "you DO believe . . ."

And she smiled up at him tremulously, "of course, why wouldn't I? Haven was her dream, it's only right she'd want to see it in fruition, want to show her Liam. You said she was pleased, Andrew," she asked, wanting to hear the words once more.

"Yes, she really was, and she was smiling like anything when she said it!"

Maudie spoke up, "I think we need a bit more tea, and perhaps a drop of something a bit stronger as well might go down nicely, probably the last you'll be wanting to have for a good long time, lass," and she rose to fetch exactly that.

And she was right, they did, and it did, and it was. And yes, two girls it was, who came to be named Mari and Maeve. And at the Day of Remembrance, when Caeide told the story of Maeve and her Liam, she included the visit, and the naming of their third son and fourth daughter after those two, so that their names might be carried on.

**Author's Note:**

> For those who didn't read 'Interlude', or if the details were too obscure or too long ago, Maeve was Caeide's cousin and heir to Haven after the deaths of her adoptive Clan parents, Agnera and Kathleen. She was only a few years older than Caeide. Maeve met her Liam on a mission where their Handler and Team Leader decided the team, all from dubious backgrounds, mostly various prisons, were truly expendable and did their best to see that none of them returned alive. Liam was one of those who didn't, and after Maeve returned, and the Handler and Team Leader somehow got hold of some bad mushrooms, she returned to Haven, put her affairs in order and followed her Liam on The Long Road. She left Caeide, who had spent much of her early years at Haven, holding the property and the position of Mistress of Haven.


End file.
